


Sam talks with Ioreth

by sophinisba



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: 100-1000 Words, Gen, Hobbits, Hurt/Comfort, Minas Tirith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-29
Updated: 2006-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:58:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba





	Sam talks with Ioreth

Sam held his good hand while Ioreth slowly unwrapped the bandage from the other. And Frodo remembered Sam at Rivendell, how he'd reached for Frodo's hand in joy to see him awake but then let go shyly almost at once. Sam's shyness, which Frodo had always though charming, though he hadn't said as much, was gone now, or at least retreated for a time. His grip was warm and secure and gentle as ever it had been through the terrors of their journey, with the Nazgûl screaming overhead. And Frodo clung to it, close to panic just as he'd been then, for as Ioreth peeled away the layers of cloth he felt exposed and ugly and embarrassed. But he looked away from the injury, put his concentration into the feel of Sam's hand, the old calluses and the more recent scars, all put there by his work of caring, protecting, nurturing. Frodo looked into Sam's kind, warm eyes and felt that he was safe.

There might still be some shyness in Sam's nature, but making Frodo comfortable was more important to him than that, and in this particular situation that meant holding his hand, and it also meant putting himself forward. He didn't shy away from looking at the wound either.

"That's healing up clean as ever we could have hoped," he said to Ioreth, taking away any pressure for Frodo to speak. "My oldest sister, Daisy, she's a healer too, though she never did have to worry about any wounds from battle, nor anything like this."

"My mother's sister was a midwife," said Ioreth. "And I thought that would be the best thing for me too, but there were so many men coming back from the battles, the word came out they needed anyone with any skill or knowledge of healing to tend to them, and that's what I've done ever since I was an apprentice and barely grown.

"Now, Mr. Frodo," she said (for she revered Sam but she'd also somehow recognized him as her equal, and she copied his mannerisms with the other hobbits), "this next part will sting some, you probably know from when they changed the dressing already at Cormallen."

Frodo nodded and braced himself, glanced at the scarred stump and turned quickly away. Sam squeezed his hand and Frodo squeezed back, and a sting in his eyes but managed not to hold back the tears and any noise as she cleaned the wound.

Sam said, "I hope that's the end of the battles for your people for a long time, and you'll get to give more of your attention to mothers and their babies from now on."

"That's what I most like to do," said Ioreth. "To bring a new life into the world."

"Daisy says the same."

"And I believe in a year or even nine months' time I'll be too busy delivering babies to even stop to remember how grateful I am that the fighting is finally over."

She was wrapping a clean white bandage around his right hand now, and Frodo found he could look at it again, and could look at her, and that they were both smiling.

"I believe you'll have a lot of work," said Sam, "and good work at that. But I hope you never forget how good it is the war's over, and I hope you'll never forget about us."

"Oh, no," she said. "I never will forget you."


End file.
